


Crash

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gore, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a car crash, and it destroys everything</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

The metal of the car buckles around them and the headlights flicker once, twice, then die completely as smoke fills the air and they slump, Chester against the steering wheel and Mike against the passenger door. Blood mixes with gasoline and the smell is of disaster, of things lost and never to be regained. Then the fire starts.

***

It was an accident, nothing more or less than that, and the manslaughter charges were dropped almost as soon as they were suggested. Instead, Chester was sentenced to life in a wheelchair, adult diapers, loneliness. Life in prison, he thinks, doesn’t even come close to the hell he lives in now.

Brad becomes his full-time carer and it’s hard not to see the expression in his face when he helps Chester go the bathroom and remember that, six months ago, it used to be one of lust as he pressed Chester against the wall, pushed a hand down his pants. This whilst Mike was out buying weed so that he and Chester could bake hash cakes and make love.

That was always the difference - Brad wanted to fuck, but Mike wanted to make love, make a life, make a future, make a home.

Now Brad only ever wants to make a swift exit. Once Chester is asleep - suitable medicated so that he won’t get up in the middle of the night and kill himself. Not that he could since all of the drain cleaner and bleach was poured away after Brad found him on his knees in front of the chemical cupboard, fumbling with the childproof cap on a bottle.

His therapist says things could have been worse. He should thank God for being left alive. But what God torches everything you love and leaves you crippled, half the time unable to speak because of synapses misfiring in your brain? Why should he thank anybody for taking away Mike and leaving him like this?

This isn’t life he is living, this is a nightmare. And when he sleeps all he dreams of is Mike’s scream as the car crumpled and crushed him to death, of waking up in hospital without any sensation in his legs, his head wrapped tight in bandages to heal the severe burns.

One morning, whilst Brad is out front on the phone - hushed words to Rob, Joe, Dave, whoever - Chester struggles to the oven. Turns on the gas to full and just leaves it to fill the room. He’s barely conscious when the refrigerator clicks on, the tiny spark igniting the gas. In his mind all he can hear is Mike’s voice as he leans over in the car to kiss Chester’s neck saying “I love you,” and then Chester’s grip loosening on the wheel, the car skidding off the road and into the tree.

And then the fire starts.


End file.
